User blog comment:Denrael Sabretooth/The Red Mist RPG/@comment-15113825-20130909195028

''Clambering through the trees, almost as agile as a squirrel, a young ferret looked around at the lush landscape around her. It had been two seasons since the battles at Woodsfort. It had saddened her to leave, but it was neccessary. The memories of the things they had lost, the things they had saw was too much for her. Earlier, she had been attacked by a group of bloodthirsty moles. She had dispatched them with ease, but there was a nasty gash along her arm. She took off her rucksack and took out her small box of medicinal herbs. She sighed and got to work.''